Triangles
by Jaycee2
Summary: Buffy's senses are going out of wack, along with her mind. Angst, W/T and B/?
1. Chapter 1

Triangles  
  
By Jaycee  
  
COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: I do not own BtVS, I do not pretend to own BtVS, and I only use the characters as best I can so that they remain nice and happy (with some angst occasionally thrown in) and very much unsafe in the Hellmouth. If you want a more technical disclaimer, please write me, I'd be more than happy to supply one.  
  
RATING: PG-13 for angst and some violence  
  
***  
  
I am walking along, not to sure of where I am going. That happens often these days, with one thing leading to another. I just do not have the time for purposeful wandering, so I tend to go with aimless wandering.  
  
The streets are quiet. This worries me. I have always been told that when the streets are quiet, then the bad guys are booming. So to speak. So I'm worried that something big is going to come screaming at me, and I don't need that right now, I've had enough screaming.  
  
Too many dead, too many hurt, too many forever silenced by grief and shock. I keep trying to tell myself that if I try and be good, if I try and work out all that I have done wrong in my life, I can save what is left of my sorry-ass soul. Make that cross I wear around my neck mean a damn. But the silent don't tell tales, and the ones I wasn't there to save, the ones whose lives were taken while I was off 'saving' someone else, they lie in their graves and stare, or they come to know the bad side of this good little girl.  
  
It's worse when those I am close to find those they love scarred for life. When a friend of a thousand years comes to me with tears streaking down her face and I can do nothing to make the damn dam stop, can do nothing to right what was so wrongly done. When a mother, father, brother, lover, falls mysteriously ill and dies, and I must go and make sure they do not rise again to comfort those who they left behind.  
  
I cannot walk any more in this dead town. For that is where I am, a place where the dead walk the night, where the dead take those they love and make them as themselves, where the dead scream in bloodlust and swear they shall destroy that which they came from.  
  
And it is my job to stop them, to make sure they do not bring terror to the living world, that those who would wish to be kept in the dark shall find nothing from nightmares waiting to take them to hell.  
  
I am a Slayer. It is what I do. It is what I am. No more, no less.  
  
I have to get out of here.  
  
*** 


	2. Chapter 2

COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: I do not own BtVS, I do not pretend to own BtVS, and I only use the characters as best I can so that they remain nice and happy (with some angst occasionally thrown in) and very much unsafe in the Hellmouth. If you want a more technical disclaimer, please write me, I'd be more than happy to supply one.  
  
RATING: PG-13 for angst and some violence  
  
***  
  
"Buffy?" Willow asked hesitantly.  
  
Buffy looked up from her seat, a look of exhaustion in her eyes. "Yeah, Will?"  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"No."  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Can I help?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I'm not sure."  
  
"Can anyone help?"  
  
"I'm not sure. I don't think so."  
  
"Why won't you talk to me? Aren't I your friend? I mean, in the sense that we've known each other since high school, we shared a dorm room freshman year of college, we now live together in the same house, your house, and we fight evil baddies of the night together, or does that not qualify as a friend, 'cause someone needs to update the manual then, not that there is a manual-"  
  
"No, Will, you're my friend, but."  
  
"Right. Gotcha. When you feel like speaking to someone, just remember you live with your best friend."  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
***  
  
The measure of the angles of a right triangle, when added together, equals ninety degrees. The measure of the angles of any triangle, when added together, equals one hundred and eighty degrees. The triangle is the most stable structure in geometry. There is always a common plane of existence between three points set in any dimension, but not four. The length of one leg of a triangle squared plus the length of the second leg of the same triangle squared equals the length of the hypotenuse squared.  
  
*** 


	3. Chapter 3

COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: I do not own BtVS, I do not pretend to own BtVS, and I only use the characters as best I can so that they remain nice and happy (with some angst occasionally thrown in) and very much unsafe in the Hellmouth. If you want a more technical disclaimer, please write me, I'd be more than happy to supply one.  
  
RATING: PG-13 for angst and some violence  
  
***  
  
Tara opened her eyes sleepily to see a blur of red draped over her entire body. She blinked her eyes a few times to clear the sleep from them, and found that instead of a blur of red, it was Willow in her red-plaid flannel pajamas. Tara breathed in deeply, smelling the scent of the woman she held in her arms, and closed her eyes.  
  
"The dogs are eating the mice, make sure the mice don't have hormones," Willow murmured sleepily before opening her eyes. She looked up to see an amused set of blue eyes staring down at her. She grinned sheepishly, stretched, and kissed Tara on the lips briefly.  
  
"Good morning, Tarbear," Willow said, gazing gently at the vision of blonde loveliness in front of her. "Sleep well?"  
  
Tara yawned gently, like a kitten that has just discovered the beauty of sleeping on top of the bed instead of in the box with its mother. "Yeah," she replied, her eyes twinkling in the morning light. "It looks like it's going to be a beautiful day," she said, looking out the window to see a blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds.  
  
"Mm-hm," Willow hummed in agreement, lazily lifting her head to look out the window. "Should we go on a picnic?"  
  
Tara nodded, absently tracing circles on Willow's back. "We should. Just us two, or the whole gang?"  
  
Willow shrugged. "I'm not sure." She thought on it a while, her eyes half- closed as Tara's movement lulled her to sleep. "I guess we should bring the gang. Buffy needs to get more. She's been a little quiet lately."  
  
"I've noticed," Tara said quietly, her thoughts wandering to the girl probably still asleep a few rooms away. "It'd probably be good for her to come with us. Maybe cheer her up."  
  
Willow nodded. "It's a deal." She lay there for a moment, and then screwed her face up in disgust. "Does that mean I have to move?"  
  
Tara laughed at that, the light sound filling the air in the room with a soft touch. "Not yet, Buffy won't wake up for another hour or so."  
  
"Good," Willow said emphatically. "More than enough time." With an evil grin she pulled the covers over both of them, effectively muffling Tara's laugh of astonishment.  
  
***  
  
It burns occasionally. A distant throb, nothing more than a concentrated heat, really, but it burns nevertheless. A small reminder of what I am forced to deal with day in and day out, the horrors that chase me in the night. It is one thing to be deemed unearthly by a piece of scientific software, another to be branded with what would seem to be that which protects me.  
  
The cross-shaped scar on my shoulder will fade, eventually, but never disappear. A cruel joke by one of the smarter vampires I have fought. She died a painful death that night, her head slowly severed by the very cross that had sealed her fate.  
  
It makes me feel unholy, the burn that never goes away. For I am burned as only one who I destroy should be burned. I am shamed because of it, and I have kept it hidden from all. Not even those I hold closest know of its existence.  
  
It burns, and I do not sleep.  
  
***  
  
"Rise and shine!" Willow said cheerfully as she bounded into Buffy's room. She was dressed for the warm spring day, a blue wraparound skirt that hit mid-thigh with a purple spaghetti strap that had dancing clouds across the front. "Get up!"  
  
Buffy groaned as she rolled over. "I'm up, I'm up." She sat up slowly, pretending to wipe the sleep from her eyes. She had not slept much the night before, the burn on her shoulder keeping her up. "What's up, Will? The world ending again?"  
  
Willow grinned as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Nope! Not today, at least. The gang's goin' on a picnic, so get dressed! Xander's already dragging a grumpy Anya to Kentucky Fried Chicken, and I promised Tara we'd stop by that new funky vegetarian place for take-out."  
  
Buffy moaned and flopped on the bed again. "Do I have to? I just wanna sleep, Will."  
  
Willow stood up dramatically and stared down at her friend. "Yes, you have to. If you don't get up right now, I'll. I'll."  
  
Buffy raised an eyebrow at Willow, silently daring her to pull something devious.  
  
Willow, in response, pulled the blanket off of Buffy and ran out of the room, only to return a moment later with a large pitcher of water.  
  
"Up!" She commanded, a wild grin on her face. "Or little-miss-grouch gets a cold shower, pronto!"  
  
Buffy laughed at Willow's bravado, and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "All right, all right, I'm up. Just give me a few minutes to get ready."  
  
Willow gave Buffy a quick hug before heading out of the room. "Meet you downstairs!"  
  
Buffy stretched as she stood up, cracking various joints in her body. She bent over to touch her toes, then jumped up and touched the ceiling, her routine every morning to make sure she was in working order. She looked around her messy room, trying to find some sense of order before sighing and giving up. She opened her closet, looked around, and finally pulled out a loose brown three-quarters tee and a pair of khaki capris.  
  
Buffy quickly pulled the outfit on, and then grabbed a brush, pulling it through her long golden-blonde hair. She put it up with a ponytail on her dresser, and headed down the stairs.  
  
"Are we going, or are we going?" she asked the two wiccans waiting by the door.  
  
The girls nodded, Willow eagerly, Tara shyly. Tara was dressed in a light green floral print skirt and a yellow tee with butterflies ringing the collar and hems.  
  
"All right then, ladies, let's get this show on the road," Buffy said, flashed them a smile, and headed out the door.  
  
"Sh-she seems cheerful," Tara said quietly, her stutter surfacing outside of the private sanctuary that was their room.  
  
Willow frowned slightly. "She's faking."  
  
*** 


	4. Chapter 4

COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: I do not own BtVS, I do not pretend to own BtVS, and I only use the characters as best I can so that they remain nice and happy (with some angst occasionally thrown in) and very much unsafe in the Hellmouth. If you want a more technical disclaimer, please write me, I'd be more than happy to supply one.  
  
RATING: PG-13 for angst and some violence  
  
***  
  
The sun is brighter than I remember. I don't see it as often as I used to. I hide from it during the day, sleeping when everyone else is awake, running through the night while everyone else is asleep. My biological clock has switched around, and I don't know what to do.  
  
It is hotter when the sun is out. When the moon is out, I am washed in a cool light, but with the sun it is hot, burning. It reminds me of my shoulder, and I cringe as a small flash of pain flows through me. I have hidden it so far, I do not wan the sun to bring it to the light of the eyes I hide it from.  
  
***  
  
"Do you want some more chicken?" Willow asked Buffy as she stretched out on the blanket. Xander and Anya had already left to go to the movies, leaving the three girls out in the sun.  
  
Buffy groaned as she rolled onto her back. "If I eat any more chicken, I'll burst," she complained, closing her eyes against the bright rays that beat down on the trio.  
  
Willow grinned, and poked Buffy's side. "You're getting too skinny, anyway." She turned to Tara, who was sitting cross-legged with a salad in front of her. "You need anything?"  
  
Tara shook her head and smiled shyly at Willow.  
  
Willow stood, stretching her stiff muscles. "C'mon, Buffy, lets go for a walk."  
  
Buffy opened one eye lazily to stare up at Willow. "Do I hafta?"  
  
Willow raised an eyebrow at that.  
  
Laughing, Buffy hauled herself to an upright position, and then scrambled to her feet. "Sure, why not. Shall we walk around the lake?"  
  
Willow nodded, and the two ambled off. Tara watched them go, a thoughtful look crossing her face as she traced their slow movement.  
  
The two walked in silence, following the small dirt path that went around Sunnydale Lake, or Richter's Pond, as it was known to the SU students, in commemoration for the student who had drowned during a party.  
  
"Buffy?" Willow asked hesitantly.  
  
"Hmm?" Buffy responded absently, looking briefly at her friend.  
  
"What happened to your shoulder?"  
  
Buffy froze for a second, then kept walking, her pace picking up. "Nothing."  
  
"Buffy," Willow said firmly, stopping. Buffy stopped a few steps ahead, turning to look at her. "I don't know what happened, but you've been favoring your right shoulder for a few days now, and you haven't said a word about it. What happened?"  
  
Buffy shook her head slowly, trying to make the situation go away. She sighed when it didn't. "Nothing happened, Willow, just a fight with a vamp." She looked up to see Willow gazing at her skeptically.  
  
"I don't want to force you to show me," Willow said gently. "But I want you to know that whatever it is, it's obviously hurting you, otherwise I wouldn't be able to tell. I want to look at it," she added pleadingly.  
  
"I can't," Buffy replied sadly. She closed her eyes, fighting the tears that threatened to surface.  
  
Willow watched as her best friend fought away the nervous breakdown that tried to force its way out. She reached out and hugged Buffy tightly, and didn't want to let go.  
  
Buffy sobbed quietly, and held onto Willow as tightly as she dared. She gave into the darkness that had threatened at the corners of her mind, and it rolled over her, drowning her.  
  
Willow just held her, rubbing her hand gently on Buffy's back.  
  
After a couple minutes, Buffy pulled away, sniffling quietly. Without looking at Willow, she pulled the brown shirt down over her shoulder, showing the healing burn there. The burn was in the shape of a cross, the ends squared, the center cut out so a square of untouched skin showed through.  
  
Willow caught her breath, staring at the burn. It would scar, no doubt about that. She knew what that meant to Buffy, having something like that branding her. Even her ability to heal would not get rid of that- perversity.  
  
"I'm so sorry," Willow said, not sure what she should do. Buffy acted as if she did not want to be touched again, so Willow did not reach out to her as she ached to.  
  
Buffy pulled her shirt up stiffly, her shoulders hunched over as she huddled around her stomach. She sank to the ground, and slowly rocked back and forth. Her eyes stared unseeing across the lake.  
  
Willow sat down next to her, not quite touching, but close. She watched her friend, worried, but didn't say a word.  
  
*** 


	5. Chapter 5

COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: I do not own BtVS, I do not pretend to own BtVS, and I only use the characters as best I can so that they remain nice and happy (with some angst occasionally thrown in) and very much unsafe in the Hellmouth. If you want a more technical disclaimer, please write me, I'd be more than happy to supply one.  
  
RATING: PG-13 for angst and some violence  
  
***  
  
I've seen her often recently. She walks around campus, hand in hand with a beautiful brunette. I can't seem to take my eyes off of her, mesmerized by her laugh, her walk, the sound of her voice. I watch her when she goes to class, I watch her walk home at night, and I have even watched her make love to the afore-mentioned brunette. She draws me in a way I had not thought anyone could ever draw me.  
  
The only problem is, I might have to kill her. She feels as only one of the night stalkers should feel. She feels as though she should crave the primal force that gives us all life, blood. She should not be walking in the bright of day. It fascinates me, and I want to know how she is what she is, and I want to know her, every inch of her. It is a new, yet familiar feeling, one I have had before, but never to this extremity.  
  
I don't want to kill her.  
  
***  
  
Willow stepped out of the coffee shop, laughing. She turned to her study group, smiling. "And then she looked at him and said, 'You're so dead, you're rancid.'"  
  
The assembled group laughed appreciatively at the story, and then said their goodbyes. Soon Willow was standing there with Gwen, the newest addition to the group.  
  
"Well, that was fun!" Willow said, turning to Gwen. "Didn't you think so?"  
  
Gwen chuckled. "Oh, absolutely thrilling."  
  
"Hey!" Willow laughed, mock frowning at the tiny black-haired girl. "Don't make fun of the studying!"  
  
"Oh, wouldn't dream of it," Gwen replied, smiling. "Listen, I gotta head home. I have a major psych exam I hafta study for, and it's gonna be a killer."  
  
Willow looked up, noticing the dimming sky. "I'll walk you home, okay? Sunnydale's not exactly the safest place to be at night."  
  
"You have no idea," Gwen said, smiling. Suddenly, she stiffened, staring at something over Willow's shoulder.  
  
"What?" Willow asked, worried at the look that crossed Gwen's face.  
  
"Don't look right away," Gwen said, looking intently at Willow. "But there's a girl sitting on a bench about twenty or thirty yards from us. She's been following me around for the past week or so. Heather, my girlfriend, has noticed her too."  
  
Willow laughed, her eyes conveying that she understood, and turned nonchalantly to look at the bench, passing over it quickly before being pulled back.  
  
Buffy sat on the bench, staring at the ground intently. She bent over to pick a dandelion; keeping her eyes anywhere but where Willow and Gwen were standing. She stood up and made as if to leave.  
  
"Buffy!" Willow called, causing the startled slayer to look up. She waved cheerfully at the girl, eliciting a tiny wave back. Buffy turned the opposite direction and started walking quickly away.  
  
"You know her?" Gwen asked, astonished.  
  
Willow turned back to Gwen nodding. "We live together," she replied, frowning slightly. "That is, Tara and I live in the house with Buffy and her sister, Dawn. She's been following you?"  
  
Gwen nodded, watching as Willow scanned the area quickly for any remaining sign of the blond. "I've spotted her outside of my classes, outside of my car, hell, even outside of my house. If it wasn't so goddamn creepy, I'd be flattered."  
  
Red curls bobbed slightly as Willow nodded. "Yeah, it's kinda ringing the creep factor. I'll talk to her, try and find out what's going on."  
  
Gwen shifted uncomfortably, her shoulder length black hair falling in front of her face. She tucked it behind one ear. "You don't have to do that," she said, her gray eyes blinking in the sudden breeze. "I'm sure she has a. well, I want to say a good reason, but since I don't know her, she might just enjoy being creepy."  
  
"Oh, no!" exclaimed Willow, a horrified and protective look crossing her face. "Buffy will most definitely have a good reason for whatever it is she's doing. I've known her since high school," she added, realizing how pathetic it must sound to the woman beside her.  
  
Gwen smiled at Willow, allowing her doubt to be buried behind her eyes. "Well, you know her better than I do. I'll see you tomorrow for the cram- fest, alright?"  
  
Willow nodded, and the two walked away towards Gwen's home.  
  
***  
  
"BUFFY!" Willow shouted as she entered the house, closing the door behind her.  
  
"Willow?" a voice floated in from the kitchen as Tara made her appearance. "Is something wrong?"  
  
"Where's Buffy?" asked Willow, peering into the living room for any sight of the Slayer.  
  
"She just left for patrol," said Dawn, poking her head up at the top of the stairway. "She said she was gonna make it quick, 'cause there's this show she wants to watch at 11."  
  
"Is something wrong?" repeated Tara worriedly, eyeing her lover anxiously.  
  
Willow shook her head. "Nothing apocalyptic. I just need to ask her some questions concerning a friend of mine."  
  
Dawn rolled her eyes. "While you're at it, will you ask her to please stop acting so weird? She's been acting as if she's seen a ghost for the past week or so, yet when I ask her what's wrong she just shrugs me off."  
  
Tara smiled up at the seemingly non-chalant teenager. "I'm sure there's a logical explination for everything," she said.  
  
Willow giggled. "You just sounded like Scully from the 'X-Files', Tara."  
  
Tara chuckled, and winked at her partner. Willow blushed slightly, gazing lovingly at the blond Wiccan.  
  
"C'mon, lets eat while we wait for Buffy," Tara said, and dragged Willow into the kitchen with her. "You hungry, Dawn?"  
  
"I'll be right down!"  
  
*** 


	6. Chapter 6

COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: I do not own BtVS, I do not pretend to own BtVS, and I only use the characters as best I can so that they remain nice and happy (with some angst occasionally thrown in) and very much unsafe in the Hellmouth. If you want a more technical disclaimer, please write me, I'd be more than happy to supply one.  
  
RATING: PG-13 for angst and some violence  
  
***  
  
Blood. Blood is primal. Blood is what makes us tick, what makes us tock, what makes us go boom. Boom boomboomboom. Blood. Sticky and red and tasting of new copper pennies covered in salt. Smells like it too.  
  
I crave blood. It scares me, because my job is to fight those who crave the basis of all life. But here I am, and I crave it as well. It's starting to drive me crazy. I smell it all the time, pounding right underneath the surface of the student who sits next to me in my night school course. I just want to lean over and sink my teeth in, but I fight.  
  
I'm losing.  
  
***  
  
Buffy sat in the Bronze, a coke in one hand. She stared listlessly into the crowd, pushing her senses as she was taught so long ago. There was nothing, so she just stayed and listened to the music. People danced on the floor, and she watched them idly, wishing she could feel the want to be there.  
  
"It's Buffy, right?"  
  
Buffy started, and stared up into a very familiar face. Shoulder length black hair, grey eyes, pale skin, sculpted cheekbones, 5' 3", small chest, large hips, great legs. It was Gwen. She was wearing a forest green tank with black pants and boots, and silver glitter dusted along her temples.  
  
"H-hey!" Buffy exclaimed, subconsciously straightening her maroon shirt. "Yeah, it's Buffy."  
  
"I'm sorry, it's just that I've seen you around a lot, and Willow said you were a friend of hers," Gwen said, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.  
  
"No problem," Buffy said, and scooted sideways on the couch. "Did you want to sit down?"  
  
After a moments hesitation, Gwen sat. "Thanks. Listen, I just wanted to talk to you. I don't want to seem like I'm crazy or anything, but everywhere I go you seem to be there."  
  
"Yeah," Buffy said slowly. "Sorry about that. It's kinda hard to explain. you just remind me of someone. I got kinda obsessive, and I realize that it must have been really strange to see me kinda following you, and I'm babbling aren't I," Buffy said, stopping herself, blushing furiously.  
  
Gwen laughed. "You are definitely friends with Willow. And look, don't worry about. Just, next time, come up to me and say hi. Alright?"  
  
Buffy laughed shortly at herself. "Yeah, ok."  
  
Gwen stood up again. "Listen, I'm going to go hook up with my girlfriend. I'll talk to you later, right?"  
  
Buffy smiled. "Right." 


End file.
